


guess I'm a quitter.

by rainbowrabblerouser



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Falling In Love, Fuckbuddies, Getting Together, Harry Potter Has ADHD, Harry Potter Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, M/M, Meet the Family, Non-Explicit Sex, Secret Relationship, Sneaking Around
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:06:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23502832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbowrabblerouser/pseuds/rainbowrabblerouser
Summary: Draco has a plan to get Harry.Harry figures it out.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 118





	guess I'm a quitter.

**Author's Note:**

> I saw a "Supalonely" edit with Malfoy and then wrote this.

“Maybe you’ll reconnect in your thirties…”

Draco had been told that far too many times.

He didn’t believe in such malarkey, and besides, Potter had his life planned out with that Weasley girl and Draco, well, he supposed he’d pass on his bloodline in some way. 

Any way.

Anyway.

God, he was just foolish to think that Potter would even hold a candle for him.

Ugh. Fine.

Harry.

He had promised the rest of Slytherin House he’d acknowledge that they were on a first name basis.

So no more sneering like that.

And leering. And scheming. No plotting either.

He rather liked those. Kept him out of the house.

Kept him sane and his mind fresh.

But his family line was just calculated and he couldn’t break the chain now. 

He wasn’t like the Weasley kids: expendable.

No siblings made for a lonely existence with everything riding on him.

So why did he get so hung up on Harry like he was a lovesick teenager? 

Maybe because he was one of those hormonal virgins who would cry about internalized homophobia and the fear of dying alone without ever saying anything.

But then again, he was a crier.

When he heard the news that Harry had broken up with the Weasley girl, he was more than pleased, and the rest of the house could tell.

Now was his chance.

To do what, exactly?

Their repeat of seventh year was just a fucking mess and the only thing keeping them in line was the fact that Granger was still trying to be the Minister of Magic or whatever. 

So she kept the time and reminded them of due dates like the good little trooper she was. Perfect. Of course.

He had hoped she and the Weasley boy had stayed together only so that he would have Harry to himself.

Not that he really fancied him.

Draco just believed that she was good for Weasley. 

She was smart enough to control him and he’d soon be Mr. Granger.

He had missed his chance at the Yule Ball with Harry and he was not going to fuck it up, he swore on his great-grandmother’s grave.

Oh, the fact that she and the rest of his family, dead and alive (sans his mother), would call him a “fairy faggot” and whatever shit their rotted brains could muster was what motivated him.

But what would he do?

Steal him away from his friends in Hogsmeade? Skip class with him? 

Challenge him again?

Well, it had to be something they already did.

From the extreme sexual tension they had in Quidditch to the immense sexual tension they had just staring at each other, Draco knew it would work.

Alas, his plans always fail.

One reason.

Harry was a fucking dick.

He had managed to not only A) realize he had a plan but also B) ruin it immediately.

So when Harry shoves him into the suspiciously empty Prefect bathroom and locks the door, he doesn’t ask any questions.

Draco just lets Harry push him against the door and kisses him until he feels dizzy.

“Fuck, Potter.”

“Uh, duh, that’s the point.”

He found out that he was a fucking bottom.

If this couldn’t get even more embarrassing…

Harry ravished him weekly because of course, it became a frequent stress-relieving activity.

Before Quidditch. After Quidditch.

Hell, if they could sneak off fast enough, during Quidditch.

Their excuse was that the cameras were dodgy and the arena was fucking burnt to a crisp.

Even then, no one gave a fuck.

They were fucking.

Cool, pay up in the betting ring.

Because that was a thing.

Draco was a fucking winner.

  
  
  
  


Here’s the deal: 

Ron is not the smart one. That’s Hermione.

Harry, well, he and his buddy share a brain cell.

So when he notices Harry running off again during their repeat year, he wonders if the Dark Lord was back in even more black. This was just not good.

He had already lost his brother. 

This was too much stress. It was not a good thing for a guy with PTSD and ADHD and all of the Ds on his report card. Hermione was not doing so hot either.

“Is Harry okay? He seems...off.”

“Oh, good God, did you notice too? He also is acting more aggressive. Not towards us or Ginny, but around Malfoy. It’s not right anymore. Hasn’t it been–”

“Too long? Yeah, what the hell is that? He keeps skipping class too.”

Ron sighed, “We’d get pardons anyway. We nearly perished for this school.”

Hermione took him out to get a cup of Butterbeer to drown his sorrows.

  
  


Harry is the smartest one, duh.

At least that’s what he believed. He would never tell Hermione. 

But then again, did she defeat Voldemort as an infant? 

NO.

Was she topping Malfoy?

He sure hoped not.

That would be a horrid conversation.

But yes, he is a clever boy. No one used the Room of Requirement as well as he did. 

Most kids had forgotten that it existed. Trauma, he guessed. 

Maybe his sneaking around with Malfoy was just some strange coping mechanism for his PTSD, ADHD, and other Ds, but he would refuse to admit it to anyone. 

Ever.

Not Hagrid. Not his best friends.

Not even Malfoy.

Especially not him.

Every time they finished their meetings, they just sat there for a moment until one of them broke the silence and then they would fight again and then fuck.

It was complicated.

Maybe he just missed having conflict.

Or he missed having someone on him.

Ginny had broken up with him, but for some reason, everyone believed it was him.

What the fuck.

Believe him, it was not mutual.

She broke his heart and then he came running to Malfoy.

Ron didn’t care. He wasn’t her.

Not a bad excuse for him.

Hermione was too busy with her plans to notice. 

“Malfoy.”

“Harry.”

“Do you think about why we’re like this?”

He could sense the confusion.

“Why you’re so whiny? God, for a top, you’re just–”

“No. Not that. How’d we end up like this?”

“Fucking? Well, psychology says that we’re channeling aggression into some sick sexual relationship because the fighting got too old and it ended up blowing up in our faces. Also, you’re madly in love with me, so–”   
  


“Wow, psychology. Your rich boy tutors must be working overtime. Give them a raise.”

“Oh fuck you.”

Draco tackled him.

Harry kissed him back roughly.

They did it all over again.

  
  


“Now, where the fuck are Malfoy and Potter?”

“Uh, saw them head to the Forbidden Forest.”

Ginny sighed as she fished out her wallet from her robes. 

“They’re fucking?”

“Yes, ma’am...I’ll have to pay you at Hogsmeade. Any drink you want.”

“Nice. Ron, pay the fuck up.”

  
  


Hermione was far too involved in her plans to become successful, but even she knew that Harry was getting busy with Malfoy when she and Ron turned their heads away.

It was far too obvious and well, very well-paid off. 

She was going to be rich enough to pay off her tuition. She had a scholarship, but she could use her extra money on something for Ron. 

Maybe a skateboard? New shoes?

Eh, whatever.

Harry was like her brother.

Her stupid, stubborn, sweet brother. The one she never had.

But man is he just so bad at hiding and lying to her.

“So...how is he?”

“Malfoy’s great. Amazing.”

“I never clarified who I meant, but I’m happy for you.”

Harry groaned and then shut the door. 

“Do you love him?”

“I don’t know. I’m 18 years old, Hermione.”

“You’re an adult now. Stop acting so much like a boy. We’re not 12 anymore.”

She’s right.

Always right.

That was the one constant in their lives.

Universal law.

Of course, Malfoy runs into her and she makes a snide comment.

“Did you tell Granger?”

“No, she’s smart enough to figure things out. Also, she started a betting pool.”

Harry was too casual about this whole deal. It was getting eerie to Draco.

Malfoys aren’t supposed to even do these things. Fooling around with boys and sneaking through the woods to do secret things that were just foul. Uncouth. Dirty.

“She keeps talking about love, but I don’t know anything about that?”

“Didn’t you love Weasley?”

“Ron? Well, he’s my best friend and what we did was just experimenting–”

“The girl. Also, what the fuck–”

“Oh, no. Infatuation, apparently.”

Draco felt a wave of relief wash all over him. 

Good.

But love?

He was smoking, huh. That was just preposterous. 

Love was not something Malfoys had.    
  


Marriage was an agreement. Love was a fantasy. It was a joke and a sham.

Fucking love.

No.

“Malfoy? Are you listening? I said, we should get going.”

He didn’t move. 

Harry just grunted and then pushed him against the wall, kissing him to get attention.

Draco was a fool.

He leaned into him and melted into the kiss, gripping his collar to pull him closer.

When they pulled away, Draco stared into those green eyes and exhaled.

“I think I like you,” Harry whispered against his lips.

“Well, I think I love you.”

Draco felt like such an idiot.

They were on each other again.

Yeah, they were well on their way to getting kicked off the teams.

Harry and Draco did not return to practice that day.

  
  


“I need you to do something for me.”

“You can top another day–”

“No, I meant something else...Why is it always about sex with you?”

“When is it never?” Harry pulled him close and ground his hips against him.

“Oh, don’t tempt me.”

“Well, get on with it.”

Draco put his head in his hands.

“What is it, love?”

He blushed so red every time he called him that.

“I need you to join my family for dinner. Maybe your Potterness will distract them from trying to marry me off to Pansy. It might work if you pretend to be my lover…”

“Pretend? Oh, how about I unfuck you then?”

“You know what I mean,” Draco groaned as Harry pulled him in again.

“Oh all right,” Harry relented. 

“As long as I don’t have to sit next to your father and your mother gets to sit next to me.”

“Sure.”

  
  
  


Narcissa hated having the in-laws over for dinner.

Her husband’s family just all seemed like weirdos who resorted to incest in order to maintain the bloodline. It was just bad and left a sour taste in her mouth.

But her favorite boy of Draco’s classmates was here. 

And she got to sit next to him as he dazzled them with his wit.

“Draco’s such a sweetheart surprisingly. Nearly threw me into a fire. Now he can’t stand to be without me for a second. He’ll start panicking and call me.”

He took her son’s hand and kissed it. 

Wow, he was a wonderful actor.

She knew their relationship was fake, but her in-laws were eating it up and looking so scandalized by the whole ordeal that she didn’t mind.

Draco was a good boy; he’d figure it out later on.

He was just shy. Right now, he was blushing, embarrassed by the softness, but it reminded herself of what she and Lucius were like. 

She was the daring one like Harry, always risking everything, reckless.

Lucius was so bashful.

It was so sweet.

She lets Harry stay the night because he’s just too damn charming and she liked having someone new around the house. It got boring when no one was clever enough to get her.

“Mother, it’s all right.”

“Nonsense, Harry can stay. I’m sure it’s a long way until there’s an inn.”

“Thank you!”

Narcissa couldn’t resist the urge as she pulled him into a tight embrace. She felt so much sorrow in her heart for the boy. Growing up with no mother must have been so difficult.

She could not get the image of him dead on the ground and her lie to the Dark Lord out of her head for months. All she ever wanted was to be a good mother. She never realized that she would be one to Harry Potter of all children. Protecting the boy felt like her destiny. She almost loved him already.

Oh, if Draco screwed this up, she would be heartbroken and never forgive him.

What a sweet, charming boy.

  
Harry felt warm after the hug, which was surprising because she looked like Morticia Addams and her house looked like that Haunted Mansion place Hermione had taken him to when they went on a “senior trip” to Disney World, a fake realm of magic.

But a nice hug was what he loved.

Ron’s mother always gave the best ones.

So did Ron and Hermione.

Harry sinked into Draco’s soft bed.

He had Draco’s fancy silk pajamas on and he knew he’d steal a pair.

So soft.

But not as soft as when Draco buried his face in his neck and wrapped his arms around him. They fit together perfectly like they were made for each other.

Even though they had fought too much and they were always on the verge of breaking up, Harry liked him a lot. Too much.

He shouldn’t be with him, but there he was.

Sleeping with Malfoy like he was his boyfriend. 

Like they were lovers.

So Harry falls asleep with Malfoy against his chest.

And he enjoys the feeling of waking up in his arms well throughout their thirties.

A reconnection in their thirties was not necessary.

Malfoy had fulfilled his scheme.

  
And Potter had him all figured out.

They could agree on one thing.

He is **not** a quitter.

  
  



End file.
